


take my jacket, its cold outside

by jamesmarchant (orphan_account)



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform, its a party - Freeform, james is a witch brett's a werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 17:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jamesmarchant
Summary: The night was quiet.It was exactly what he needed, and while the chill bit at his fingers and swept across his arms, he didn’t care. The night was quiet and it was the only damn way he was going to finish this thing.(prompt fill from my tumblr @jamesmarchant)





	take my jacket, its cold outside

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to @uberhaxornova here on ao3 for the prompt!! ur the best nico  
> also also, check out gina's tumblr (@myriadus) for more of this au! this is based on her little drabbles

The night was quiet. 

It was exactly what he needed, and while the chill bit at his fingers and swept across his arms, he didn’t care. The night was quiet and it was the only damn way he was going to finish this thing.

The moon wasn’t particularly bright, but still a soft white light from it drifted down to land on James, sat criss-crossed in the grass just off from the back patio. In his lap was a book - or, more aptly, a tome - that lay heavy in James’ hands.

The weight didn’t just come from the number of pages, the contents of the book were practically as old as the spell he was attempting, and because of that and the eons of witches hands the book had passed through, just brushing against the pages gave an almost addictive wave of magick. 

Now, though, after literal hours of James attempting this damn spell, the brush of magick at his fingertips was just an infuriating tease. 

He’d read  _ everything. _ Checked every paragraph, every note scrawled in various hands and languages in the margins, double and then  _ triple _ checked the ingredients for the potion, and he’s doing it all out in the yard at one am under the  _ Gods. Damned. Moon.  _ But the spell just  _ won’t happen.  _

Another potion in James’ small cauldron sparked and fizzled pathetically, and James can’t repress the growl of frustration as he waves a quick neutralizing ward over the pot so he can throw the contents into the bushes with the  _ rest _ of his failed attempts. 

He was about to shove the book off his lap and stomp his way across the yard before he stopped himself. Took a deep breath, then two, and then  _ calmly _ placed the  _ priceless, centuries-old spellbook _ onto the ground beside him. He heaved himself to his feet, hefted up the cauldron, and shuffled over to the bushes separating his backyard and the woods. 

He tipped the cauldron upside down, and watched as the contents poured out, coating the leaves with a brightly speckled, sweet-smelling liquid. 

James wrinkled his nose out of spite and turned with a huff back to his station. There was an empty patch in the grass where he had been sitting for the last hour, and spread in a semicircle around it were various vials of oils and infused waters, gemstones, bones, and herbs. The book, now the bane of his damn existence, stared up at James innocently from the grass. 

James plopped back onto the ground, leaning forward to set the cauldron back on it’s stand. He was just pulling the tome back into his lap when a familiar voice interrupted him, “You’re not gonna get much done when you’re so irritated.”

James sighed, passed a hand over his face and then looked up to find Brett standing in the back doorway, an eyebrow raised and a hand still on the doorknob. 

“You don’t say.” James grumbled sarcastically, but Brett only grinned toothily in response. 

“Why don’t you come to bed? You can try again tomorrow.” 

“No,” James said, with more force than he intended. When he continued he softened his tone, “I’ll, uh, I’m just gonna try one more time. Then I’ll come in.” When James met the wolf’s eyes Brett certainly didn’t look  _ pleased, _ but there was a hint of fond endearment that made James feel just a little lighter. 

“Well,” Brett sighed, “At least take my jacket. It’s fucking freezing out here.” He stepped out then, walking around the chaos laid on the grass to reach James. He shrugged off the dark coat he was wearing and placed it over James’ shoulders before he could protest. The warmth hit James immediately and he couldn’t help reaching up to tug the jacket on properly, soaking up the heat that Brett left.

Fuck, he hadn’t realized how damn  _ cold _ he was. 

Brett walked back to the doorway, and before he shut the door behind him James said quietly, “Thanks,” Brett paused, turned back to James and have him a small smile that still made James’ heart flutter after all these years, and then he shut the door and walked out of sight. 

James looked after him for a moment, watched as the light went off in the living room, then the kitchen, and, a few minutes later, up in the bedroom window. 

The night felt even quieter, then. James stared up at the bedroom window, the crickets from the forest and the ambient wind the only thing there for him to hear. It left a little ache in his chest, a pull of longing to be warm in bed with Brett. That ache sat in James’ ribcage, hollow from all the frustration pouring out just from the action of Brett placing the jacket over his shoulders. 

James sighed, cracked open the tome in his lap, and decided to attempt reading through the spell one more time, idly playing with the buttons on Brett’s jacket as he did. 

He tried his best, really, but he was distracted now and with every line his eyelids just felt heavier and heavier. When he had to re-read a paragraph for the third time after he hadn’t  _ actually _ read it, he knew it was time to throw in the towel. The tome closed with a heavy  _ thunk _ and James began to gently nestle the vials and herbs around him into the empty cauldron for him to carry inside. 

It took a couple trips, first he set the spellbook and the more delicate bones and herbs onto the kitchen table, and as he walked back he set his gemstone necklace and rings onto the nearest windowsill. He lifted up the full cauldron into his arms, but once he stepped inside the prospect of carrying the heavy weight all the way upstairs to his “witch’s den,” as Aleks likes to call it, suddenly seemed like  _ way _ too much effort. He set it down right by the doorway instead and called that good enough. 

James dragged his feet up the stairs and down the hall, and as soon as he breached the doorway of the bedroom the little ache in his chest grew tenfold at Brett sitting up on his phone in the bed. As James crossed the room, stripping down to his boxers as he went, Brett gave him a smug look and grin.

He didn’t say anything as James practically threw himself onto Brett, though, and he pressed his forehead into the crook of Brett’s neck as the other pulled up the blanket around the both of them.

Brett snaked his arm around James’ shoulders and pressed his nose into James’ hair. And just like that, the little ache went away entirely. 

**Author's Note:**

> im @jamesmarchant on tumblr, come say hi!  
> hope you enjoyed <3


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